


His Desert Rose

by nintendohime



Category: Final Fantasy IV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nintendohime/pseuds/nintendohime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ruby red." Why did he have a feeling he'd see more of that color in the days to come?</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Desert Rose

**Author's Note:**

> (Old work, reuploaded from fanfiction dot net and given a long overdue editing job that only took me nine years. I'm in the process of moving all of the works I liked from there to here, by the way. C: Maybe this will entice me to finally continue 'Sins of the Father' as well! ... We'll see, though.)

Even before they had become engaged to one another, his gifts always involved the red jewel: a barrette with heart shapes, which looked magnificent when lost in the sea of her cherry tresses; a rose in full bloom, its stem of gold; and a beautiful bracelet that would have made any girl throw her arms about their lover and profess claims of undying devotion.

Tellah would immediately glare at her with disapproval when she'd come dancing through the door of their small home in Kaipo, still aloft on Aphrodite's wings. He had sought out the bard personally, claiming that he had stolen the current gifts she was wearing, and that she was just as guilty for taking the aforementioned objects.

"Why always ruby, though?" The Mysidian Sage asked of his daughter one morning, contempt smearing over the horrid stench of coffee to an unusual extent. Brown eyes shimmered hot underneath crystalline spectacles, but this was a sight she had become long used to. "Why does that bard always give you a ruby object? Certainly if he were stealing from the nobles of Damcyan, they'd have more variety than _red_. It clashes with your mother's lavender hair."

Anna said nothing, dark pools of sapphire intently staring out her bedroom window, hesitant for Edward's arrival. Her lithe fingertips, once used to casting the mightiest of spells as a little girl, brushed over the ruby barrette fastened to a thick braid. The height of adulthood had abandoned the important title of _The Sage's Daughter_ , vitality replaced with the prospect of _Princess of Damcyan._ She hadn't, wouldn't, tell Tellah of her betrothed's actual identity: _It would make things too easy_ , she had told herself repeatedly. _He always looks for the worst in everyone. If I could just show him that every appearance is often deceiving and can actually be worthy of a rose's love..._

"Don't forget you have obligations today, Anna!" Tellah's crotchety voice called out, his daughter making a beeline for the door as her lover approached the slated step. "We need to work on your magic casting skills if we are to open an academy here in Kaipo, which is a task far more important than any ruby crap _that bard might_ \--"

Nevertheless, _his Anna_ was soon gone, engulfed in another's arms: a null youth fighting the old mage with a double-edged blade for the title of _his Anna_ as well.

Tellah would always stare out at them with such derision as they made their way into town; the idea of a spellcaster of reknown descent arm-in-arm with a dirty bard was a deplorable idea and it always orbited around the same damnable color: _Ruby._ The bard's tattered robes and berets reeked of the hue. The Mysidian was sure that the gold harp carried at the troubadour's waist was encrusted with the gem as well. It was far too much crimson for his little magess that had grown up wearing the robes of a red mage prodigy, intent on securing the future as a sage, when she soon turned them in for the soft dress of saffron that her mother had wore long before her birth.

_At least she has that_ , he would remind himself, turning away with a sickened air as the bard bestowed another gift (likely _ruby_ as well) upon her. Solace within his coffee ( _icy as his soul_ ) and becoming lost in his parchments depicting the daily activities of the other nations ( _heated as his venomous words_ ) did little to assuage the elderly Mysidian, already idling over the idea of when to call his child in for some inane chore that would hopefully hammer a nail into their time spent together.

Anna hated her father's impertinent acts. She'd apologize profusely to her beloved Edward, whom, in turn, would apologize to her as well, as though the sage's hatred was a common burden placed upon their shoulders. They'd never depart without some sort of gift, though, be it a gentle kiss or, in the following days, a certain object that would hold more meaning than any preceding present.

Fate revealed itself on a clear, balmy night, the stars shining brightly over the desert's calm land. Turmoil bit, smiting the woman's personal wishes as she dully presented the ruby ring placed on the third finger of her left hand. The eerie quiet in Anna's voice haunted both herself and her father, a bold stand of fevered ivory pitted against a brusque onyx, as she unveiled her plans of adjourning to Castle Damcyan to marry Edward; _if Tellah would be so kind as to give his child his blessings and ..._

"NO!" Tellah screamed, anger flushing red, ruby fists meeting the granite table instead of a solid blow to his daughter's vermilion face. "Anna, don't you have _any_ idea what this would do to me; _to you_? I refuse to let _my_ daughter marry a worthless piece of shit and bring down _my_ good name --"

About as abrupt as her father's outburst, such emitted the quick turn of booted heel; Anna's tears exploded, dripping alongside choked sobs as normally-quiet sapphire transfixed to a ruby gale. The sight gave way to a pause in Tellah's racket as he curiously watched his daughter turn back, her hand encased around a gold chain that she had tore from her neck.

"I thought you loved me, Father, and would support me in anything that I do," Anna quietly whispered amid the tell-tale lump in her throat. How could she have been _so stupid_ as to think that her patron, set like dust in his clear orthodox ways, would actually _understand_?

_Age and prestige might make you wise, but the maturities settled on it makes me hate you more. Like love colored crimson, I was a fool to believe you..._

"...I thought I had your love."

In a fluid motion, the Sage's daughter shoved the necklace into his claws, withered and tarnished from prior years of casting dangerous spells novice magicians merely dreamed of at play in their tomes, and ran hurriedly from their glowing abode into the dark arms of night, each of her tears precious as silver in contrast to fire.

Tellah looked at the chain in his hands and instantly fumbled for a seat. The heart-shaped pendant was a symbol of his undying love for his treasured daughter, the pendulum a house of her connection with spellcasting. 

Angrily, the sage threw it down with a harsh fling and covered his face, resisting the urge to cry.

The pendant was ruby, signifying her training in the Red arts. Tellah's temper flashed garnet, eventually giving way to loss.

_Ruby red._ The very thought of it tickled the back of the Mysidian's throat and dropped lifelessly into the pit of his stomach as he gazed out of an adjacent window, resting in silent watch upon the crimson moon that had lit the sky for the past seven months, its stance in contrast to the ball of white that once lacked a duet. A contempt for azure anger made him shudder, giving way to a new phase:

_Why did he have an ominous feeling of the damning color in days to come?_


End file.
